


Distance Makes the Heart Want to Punch You In the Face

by quietx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Brazil, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26256244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietx/pseuds/quietx
Summary: Tsukishima had been the one who told him that Hinata was leaving for Brazil right out of high school.He can't confess then, and three years is a long time to sit on your feelings.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 9
Kudos: 209





	Distance Makes the Heart Want to Punch You In the Face

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh this is a big shout out to Liz because i literally wouldn't've written this without her? 
> 
> i'm not really sure how to preface this, but I hope you enjoy mutual pining and Hinata Brazil angst!

It gnaws at the back of his mind for so much longer than he’d like to admit. 

Tsukishima had been the one who told him that Hinata was leaving for Brazil right out of high school. Kageyama can’t help but resent him for not telling him personally. He bites back the bitter comments when Tsukishima has the audacity to look surprised and  _ pitying  _ of him when he realizes that Kageyama didn’t know about Hinata’s upcoming departure. 

“I thought…” Tsukishima trails off when he sees Kageyama’s expression, suddenly realizing the emotional gravity of the situation. Kageyama had seen this expression on Tsukishima’s face only once before: When Yamaguchi sprained his ankle in their second year. 

Kageyama wants to snap back at him, shout and explain that he’s  _ not  _ some sort of kicked puppy or Kei’s injured boyfriend until he understands that this is different. Hinata isn’t required to tell him anything, and he’s  _ fine  _ with that. They’ve never talked much about their personal lives anyway, and they’re allowed to make decisions separately. Obviously. 

But he doesn’t. He shrugs and avoids eye contact, because this has already been way more emotions than he’s truly comfortable sharing with Tsukishima. 

“You need to talk to him.” Tsukishima’s tone is serious, and sharp. Not the snippish, sarcastic way he normally speaks, but with a sense of gravity behind it, like he believes this is of the utmost importance. 

“Sure.”

He doesn’t see Hinata for several days after his conversation with Tsukishima. Which, frankly, Kageyama is fine with. He’s sure that if he’d seen Hinata shortly after his horrifying conversation with Tsukishima, he would’ve said a lot of things he did  _ not _ mean. But regardless of the time passing, the hurt, the tugging on his extra vulnerable Hinata-owned heartstrings is more than he can really bear. He has to say something before Hinata leaves, because he knows that this feeling can’t go away until he does.

He wants to bang his head against the wall as he thinks about it the day before their graduation. 

What are you supposed to say to someone that has been your better half for three years? To someone that pulled you from one of the darkest places you’ve ever been in? To someone that you  _ love,  _ for lack of a more complete word, when they hurt you like this?

He reaches for his phone. Maybe he can—

_ Tobio: I heard that you’re headed to Brazil.  _

No, too passive aggressive. He backspaces furiously. 

_ Tobio: Tsukishima told me that you’re going to Brazil. I want you to know that I’ll miss you.  _

Hm, no. He’d be embarrassed if Hinata asked him about that one. This, too, is quickly deleted. 

_ Tobio: No matter where you travel, I’ll always be your— _

‘Your’ what? Rival? Friend?

_ Tobio: I lov— _

Absolutely not. 

He makes a frustrated sound and (gently) tosses his phone onto his nightstand. There’s no easy way to explain that he wouldn’t be who he is without Hinata, or to explain how much it  _ hurts  _ that he’s going to be gone, or to say that he’s never calmer than he is when he’s with Hinata. Hinata makes him a better person, and he’d pray to any god in existence if it meant that Hinata would feel the same way. 

He falls asleep with this on his mind, and when he sees Hinata at the graduation ceremony the next day it feels like a slap in the face. 

All the hurt and affection and love swarm him in a way that’s so much more real than the theoreticals he made for himself the night before. 

Hinata seeks him out, afterwards. Smiling and proud. He catches Kageyama’s hands as he jumps towards him. 

“Can you even believe it? We’re  _ graduated!  _ Like real, certified adults!” he shouts, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Of course I can believe it, idiot. We were in high school for three years,” Kageyama responds, squeezing Hinata’s warm palms in his own and then tugging his hands away. 

Hinata’s laugh is boisterous. “I guess you’re right.” He pauses for a moment, smile faltering as he glances around them. “Before we go out and really celebrate, wanna get in some final practice behind the gym?”

Kageyama’s heart drops into his stomach. That’s basically Hinata code for ‘we need to talk.’

He nods anyway, though, following Hinata as they walk in uncharacteristic silence towards the club room. 

_ What do I say? What do I do? What do I say? What do I do? What am I supposed to do here? How can I say what I need to?  _

Kageyama is nauseous, and he catches Hinata’s wrist as he reaches to unlock the door. 

“I know about Brazil.”

_ Shit.  _ That is absolutely not what he wanted to say. 

Hinata blinks up at him, eyes wide, and Kageyama has a brief moment of clarity. 

Hinata was just as anxious as he was. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he apologizes. “I’m sorry  _ I  _ didn’t tell you, Kageyama. You should’ve been the first to know, but I didn’t want to upset you and before I knew it it was just too late, and I’m so,  _ so sorry.” _

“It’s okay.” And he means it. It really  _ is  _ okay, and he can’t stand hearing Hinata’s voice start to turn high and panicky like that. “It’s really—I understand.”

The sigh of relief that comes out of Hinata is more like a sob. Kageyama swallows around the lump in his throat, feeling like Hinata’s misery is his fault, and he wishes that he could muster up any comfort for him.

He can’t. He  _ can’t.  _ Not now, with Hinata crying in front of him, baring his soul and his stress. His feelings now don’t matter. As Hinata ventures into a complete unknown, the question marks all over the next chapter of his life, Kageyama simultaneously has the paths in front of him open up. He knows where he’ll be next year, the team he’ll be playing on, and the fame and glory that will come with it. 

They don’t say anything else as they go to join their families and fellow graduates. The celebration feels hollow, and from the vacancy in Hinata’s laugh, he knows he’s not alone in the feeling. 

The last time he sees Hinata is in the gym, and it feels like deja vu. 

Where he expects the  _ slam _ of a ball on the court, he receives the  _ slap _ of a volleyball hitting skin. 

The smile Hinata sends him is in confidence, and he must reciprocate. 

“See you later, Kageyama!”

He’s run out of the gym again before Kageyama has time to fully comprehend the whiplash. 

The gym feels empty, and cold, like the sun has passed behind a cloud. 

He’s not really interested in practicing for today. 

*** 

Brazil isn’t as bad as it could’ve been, he thinks. He likes his job. His roommate is better than he expected. Portuguese is a challenge, but the sort of challenge that makes him want to be a better person, not the kind that makes him want to cry. 

Yachi calls him once a week, whenever it’s most convenient. Which is way harder than it seems, especially with time zones and their jobs. Yachi’s been working as a freelance graphic designer for a year now, and though she’s great at it, she still wishes she had something more stable that her mother would fully approve of. She talks a lot about getting into marketing, but she never actually puts her resume in anywhere.

“You know,” she says through a mouthful of pringles she’s snacking on. It’s late for Hinata, but he’s more than happy to stay up a little late to chat with her. “Kageyama will be in Rio next month.”

He nearly wrinkles his nose. Of course, he knows. The Olympics are the only thing anyone can talk about right now. 

“Yeah! You know, it’s really impressive he made it this far as a rookie,” Hinata comments, avoiding any mention of their current not-talking-to-each-other status. He knows Kageyama is only second string, but as a rookie, that’s absolutely astounding.

“I know, right? He’s been so anxious about going,” Yachi laughs it off, like she was rubbing in his face that she still talks with Kageyama. “Have you seen the uniforms for the volleyball team?” 

“Of course! I’ve been following the news.” It’s not a complete lie, he is following the news. And by that he means: he’s followed Kageyama’s name on every single social media site he has an account on. He never follows Kageyama’s accounts, but he sees his posts, and he sees the comments under them too. 

(Sometimes, just sometimes, he thinks about replying under them, telling these anonymous fangirls on the internet that, yes, Kageyama’s hands are just as gorgeous as they are in photos, and that he’s just as charmingly stupid as he seems in the interviews. But he absolutely cannot risk Kageyama seeing them. Especially considering he has a decent following of his own, with comments that make him blush on the regular.)

“Have you talked with Kageyama yet? To plan to meet up?” Yachi asks, ever so innocently. He feels like a shitty friend, having never told her or anyone about the end of high school, and the end of their partnership as it stood. But the fact that she’s still talking with Kageyama and he never told her either means that he’s not in this alone. It honestly irritates him a bit that even after a year apart, they’re still so in sync. 

“No, I’m sure he’ll be really busy. I don’t want to distract him.”

“Ah, you think so? I’m sure he’d be more motivated if he knew you were watching. He’d be like ‘I’ll show that dumbass how it’s done!’ He’s that sort, you know?” Her laugh is ringing this time at her own Kageyama impression, and Hinata can’t say she’s wrong, so he laughs with her, hoping it sounds believable. 

“You’re right! Yeah. Maybe I’ll reach out to him.” This is a bold-faced lie. He’ll watch Kageyama’s games on TV from the peace and quiet of his own apartment, thank you very much.

“I’m telling you, you should. He’s been weird lately and I’m sure meeting up with his number one partner will help him out.” He can hear her smile still, and his stomach ties into knots. “Okay, my extended lunch is running too long now, I’ll talk to you next week, Shoyo.” Her voice lilts on his name, the way it always has since they switched over to first names as second years. 

“Bye, Hitoka. Love you,” he says. She makes an obnoxious kissy noise back at him. He’d asked her out once, in high school, but she had bashfully admitted to having a crush on “someone else” which ended up being a third year on the girls’ volleyball team. She’s never been weird about being affectionate about him though, which he’s always immensely grateful for. 

The call ends, and he sighs heavily. He wishes he were tired. He knows he has to practice tomorrow morning, but instead he checks Instagram for the millionth time. 

Kageyama’s smiling face blinds him in the first post. It’s a picture from an interview this evening. It’s rare that Kageyama seems so comfortable on camera, and Hinata can’t stop staring at the photo.    
  
He wonders if it was something he was advised to do by his publicist. Or if he genuinely has loosened up that much since high school.   
  
It feels like his world comes crashing down with that thought. He’d always hated the feeling of inadequacy that comes along with seeing Kageyama move forward in his journey to the world stage. The feeling that maybe he was the one holding him back from being an amazing setter. The feeling that he was falling behind and Kageyama was just-- _ just  _ out of reach for him.    
  
It’s why, when faced with the opportunity, he could never confess to Kageyama back at Karasuno. Hinata never, ever, wanted to pull Kageyama down. His success wasn’t  _ real  _ if he did that.   
  
And maybe it’s selfish of him to feel that way. To think that Kageyama’s world revolved around him like his revolved around Kageyama.    
  
Hinata lets his phone shut off. The room is completely dark now, with only dim light from the window bleeding in.    
  
He lets himself sink fully into his bed as tears form in his eyes.    
  
He’ll catch up. He will.

***

It takes a few months, but Kageyama finally settles into his life. His apartment is fine, and his team is everything he never knew he needed. 

There’s a certain satisfaction to playing alongside people who are at the same level as (or god forbid, even better than) you. 

Ushijima, of all people, becomes an asset and close friend both on and off the court. He seems to share Kageyama’s lack of talent word-wise, but they communicate just fine. He remains to be particular about the sets he receives, but regardless, his strength and technique consistently blow Tobio away. 

He also encourages Tobio to find hobbies outside of volleyball, talking briefly about how cooking and keeping houseplants have been a great form of stress relief, and allow him to ‘take his mind off the court.’ Kageyama fails to comprehend why anyone would  _ want  _ to do such a thing, but two stress-related migraines later, he starts to understand the appeal. 

He earnestly accepts hobby recommendations from his teammates, and he gets the feeling that they’re making fun of him as well, but he doesn’t particularly care. 

He manages to kill a succulent in about two weeks. He sets off his smoke alarm three times in as many days trying to cook new things. Animals don’t like him enough for volunteering at an animal shelter to work out for him. He has about 2 creative visions each year, so he dismisses sketching, writing, and crafting quickly. 

His most spectacular failure, though, is his foray into dating. 

Yuki is one of the very, very few men that’s flirted with Kageyama that he actually finds even remotely interesting. He’s a sports reporter, and knows virtually everything there is to know about volleyball. (And baseball, but that doesn’t come up often). 

He’s a bubbly person, always chatting on about things. Work, what he had for lunch yesterday, what new clothing he wants to buy, the last game he reported on. Kageyama likes the ways his eyes light up when he’s asked a sincere question. And he likes the pink blush that rests high in his cheeks when he’s complimented. It’s good for them both, he thinks.

Kageyama isn’t necessarily serious about the relationship, and he makes sure Yuki knows that, but it’s nice to have someone completely different from him, completely separate from volleyball to spend time with. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are coming down for the weekend. Tsukishima had some sort of conference to attend in Tokyo, and he’d messaged asking if they could meet for lunch on Sunday. He suspects this was more Yamaguchi’s influence than Tsukishima’s idea alone, but their relationship has improved a lot since high school, regardless.

On Saturday, Yuki asks if he’s busy Sunday. And, in a brief moment of absolute stupidity and forgetfulness, he says no, and suddenly Kageyama has double booked himself.   
  
It feels weird calling Tsukishima.   
  
_ “A date?” _ he asks, dumbstruck.   
  
Kageyama pinches the bridge of his nose. “ _ Yes,  _ my boyfriend. Are you okay if he tags along? I completely forgot about our lunch.” He’s growing frustrated as this continues. He really hates talking on the phone, and Tsukishima’s attitude isn’t making it any better.   
  


_ “Forgive my disbelief,  _ Tobio _ ,” _ he scoffs, _ “but I thought you were about as interested in dating as a single celled organism.”  _ He can imagine Tsukishima tapping his fingers on his stupidly nice desk, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes like an arrogant CEO in a movie.

“Did I ask for your opinion? I just need to know if he can come.” He crosses his arms as he continues looking over the court strategies in front of him. 

_ “Of course.” _

“Thank you,” he sighs. No matter how long he knows him, talking with Tsukishima is always excruciating. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

_ “Right. See you then, your highness.” _

_ Click.  _

He sends out a quick text to Yuki letting him know they have the go-ahead.

_ Yuki: Right on! I’ll see you then <3 _

Sunday comes after a long, brutal week of practice, and an apparently grueling week of reporting for Yuki as well. They show up at the cafe to meet Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, and Kageyama feels more relaxed than he has in months. Something about familiar people in an unfamiliar place is a relief like nothing else.

Yuki greets them both enthusiastically, starting the conversation loudly and without hesitation. 

“Nice to meet both of you! Seriously, I was such a fan of watching the Monster Generation games and you are truly an  _ incredible  _ blocker,” he starts out, enthusiastically shaking both of their hands. “The Sendai Frogs have been doing well this year, right? Shame about your setter's ankle injury, though.”

Kageyama doesn’t let it bother him, and listens for the most part as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima politely indulge Yuki. He asks about their jobs and travel and their favorite foods, leaning over Kageyama to point out things on the menu he thinks he might like. 

He’s not paying much attention to the conversation, just letting the atmosphere watch over him, until Yamaguchi sends a polite smile his way. It’s a weird look. Like he pities Kageyama, or is trying to decipher something from him. Kageyama cocks his head at him, but Yamaguchi’s attention is quickly taken by their food arriving at the table.

The rest of lunch goes smoothly, but he can’t shake that look. 

Yuki’s apartment is in the opposite direction from Kageyama’s apartment and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s hotel, so they split outside the restaurant.

The weather is pleasant, and the silence is comfortable until--

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Yamaguchi asks, tapping his chin in thought, looking up towards the sky.

“Hm?” he responds, clueless.

“It’s just,” Yamaguchi pauses, linking his hand with Tsukishima’s before looking fully at Kageyama, “Yuki is a lot like Hinata.”

“What? No he’s not,” he says, a knee jerk response. “Yuki is--he’s his own person.”

“Neither of us are stupid, Kageyama, we know Yuki is his own person. It just seems like there’s a lot of similarities,” Tsukishima elaborates. “He’s talkative and likes sports and doesn’t care that talking to you is like holding a conversation with a piece of bread.”

“It’s great that you’ve found someone you like, Kageyama.” Yamaguchi’s voice is soft and sympathetic. “I just hope that you aren’t treating Yuki as a stand-in. He’s a good person, you know? He deserves someone who really loves him.”

If they weren’t just on the street, Kageyama would’ve yelled at them both. Of fucking  _ course  _ he’s not a stand-in for Hinata! Why the hell would they even think like that? 

“I’m not some heartless monster,” he spits out instead. “I can’t believe both of you think I would do something like that.”

Yamaguchi’s face shifts again to that polite, soft, fucking  _ pity  _ smile and Kageyama could punch him. 

“We know, of course we know. It’s just, maybe give it some thought, okay?” he requests.

The rest of the walk happens in silence, and Kageyama isn’t disappointed when their path diverges from their own. 

_ Bastards,  _ he thinks. Accusing him like that. 

He  _ likes  _ Yuki. He’s a wonderful person. He’s bright and friendly and all of the things Kageyama isn’t. He’s such an amazing communicator and loves cute things he can put on his desk and stickers he can press onto Kageyama’s face whenever they’re sitting together and he’s working. He gives Kageyama everything he could ever want from a partner, and vice versa. It’s  _ great,  _ dating Yuki. He’s the best partner Kageyama has ever had except--

_ Except.  _

Kageyama stomps out the thought as he unlocks his apartment door and slips off his shoes. There’s no  _ except.  _ Yuki is everything Kageyama has wanted in a boyfriend. 

Not that he’s really wanted much from boyfriends. Before Yuki there was only--

_ Shit, shit, shit.  _

They can’t be right. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were just being presumptuous. There’s no  _ way  _ he was dating Yuki because he reminded him of Hinata. It’s not possible. He’s-he’s over all that Hinata stuff. They don’t know what they’re talking about.

He breaks up with Yuki a week later. And when he cries, Kageyama wants to call Hinata. 

He thinks he’d be okay with heartbreak if Hinata were with him.

***

Running into Oikawa was something that Hinata hadn’t realized he needed. It’s so nice to have someone who speaks his language. So nice to have someone who he already knows. 

It’s refreshing too, on some level, to have someone who is still reaching to catch up with Kageyama. 

He loves playing volleyball with Oikawa. He’s an incredible setter, and he gives Hinata any sort of set he wants. The time spent in the air, the ability to attack as he chooses. It’s a completely different play style from the one he shared with Kageyama, but it’s just as thrilling and satisfying to slam down the ball. 

They both cheer together after they win the scrimmage, high fiving and jumping. 

“You’re amazing, Shoyo!” Oikawa shouts, shiny from sweat, and grinning wider than he’s ever seen from him before. 

“Thank you! You’re amazing too!” It’s thrilling to win, as always, but the tension that hangs for a moment is unusual. 

“Do you,” Oikawa pauses, wiping sweat from his brow, “want to get lunch together?” 

Hinata grins. “Sure.”

It’s a tiny hole in the wall place, and Hinata fumbles with his Portugeuese to order for both of them. The chair he’s sitting in is wobbly, but the food is better than he could’ve ever made at home. He hums around the first bite, because there’s simply  _ nothing  _ like a good, hot meal after a good game. 

“You’ve improved a lot since I last saw you play,” Oikawa comments, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, yeah?” His mouth is full of food and muffled. He swallows and continues, “I’ve been working a lot on fundamentals. Receives and serves, you know?” 

“No, no, that’s not right. You’re a better standalone player now” Oikawa points his fork at Hinata almost accusationally. “I used to think you’d only be useful with Tobio supporting you, but you’re good enough now that you don’t need him. In fact,” he now leans forward, letting all four legs of his chair rest on the floor again, “I don’t think the setter even matters to you anymore.” 

Hinata blinks at him, baffled. He’s a  _ spiker,  _ of course the setter matters to him! Without a setter he can’t score points and win! Communication with the setter is vital to victory. Everyone knows that! It’s in the rules for volleyball.

Oikawa laughs at his blank face. “Ah, you’re still just as stupid as you were back then.”

“I don’t understand,” Hinata confesses, awaiting explanation.   
  


“You could play with anyone, is what I mean,” he elaborates. 

He lets this compliment sink into his soul. Oikawa Tooru, final boss, brilliant setter and strategist, thinks that Hinata is good enough to not worry about which setter he’s working with. 

Holy crap.  _ Holy shit.  _

“Wait, really? Like, really really? You think I’m good enough for that?” he exclaims, jumping from his seat and pointing at himself. 

“You have varied spikes, a great jump height, and good instincts,” Oikawa shrugs, now seeming to brush it off like he wasn’t anticipating this sort of positive reaction.

“ _ Uwaaaaa.  _ I never thought I’d get a real compliment from the Grand King.” He bounces on the balls of his feet for a while, and then glances at his phone. 

He scrambles to gather his things when he realizes he only has a few minutes to get started on work. 

“I’m so sorry I have to leave early,” he apologizes, throwing some cash at Oikawa so he can pay for them both. Hinata moves for the door, but turns around before he heads out. “I, uh, play at this beach pretty often, so if you want to play again sometime…”

“Right, right. I’ll see you ‘round, Shoyo.” Tooru waves at him as he rushes out. 

Hinata spends the next few days with Oikawa. They play at the beach for hours on end, enjoying the sun and the competition. They go out for food, and on the nights he doesn’t work, they get drinks, something that a younger Hinata would’ve sworn he’d  _ never  _ do with Oikawa Tooru of all people. 

Oikawa is good company, though. He talks a lot, he’s passionate about a lot of things, he’s competitive and always down for a spontaneous race if Hinata challenges him. They’re surprisingly in sync, and he finds himself noticing things about his upperclassman like the way he’ll lean back in a chair and then forward again when he’s truly engaged in a topic. He makes these wide, sweeping generalizations, and enjoys when Hinata disagrees with him. He is always taking up as much space as possible, like he’s demanding people’s attention subconsciously. 

He’s arrogant in all the ways that Kageyama is, but for some reason, it seems softer in Tooru. Maybe he’s just better at hiding it with charm. 

Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising then when Tooru tries to kiss him.

He supposes that it isn’t really all that surprising. Hinata knows he has a tendency to attract people at a higher level than himself, like some sort of power magnet. And he knows that, yes, maybe it was a little mean of him to repeatedly ask Oikawa out for drinks like some sort of desperate attempt at flirting to spend extra time with him. And the beautiful golden sunset over the sea as Tooru walks him home is maybe a little too picturesque to not seem romantic. 

And, in all honesty, the first kiss is nice. It’s soft and tender and everything that one could ask for from a kiss on the beach at sunset. If it were at any other time, Hinata’s heart would be soaring with joy. 

Instead, he pulls away. 

He lets out a breath, quietly, hand on Tooru’s jaw, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings, feeling overwhelmingly guilty for leading him on and getting a kiss that was  _ barely  _ short of perfection. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, stepping back now. “I really wish--” 

“I get it,” Oikawa sighs, looking up at the quickly fading orange sky. “High school crushes can really fuck you up, huh?”

Hinata nods, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the sympathy shown to him. 

Tooru and him sit in the sand for another hour, chatting about Kageyama and Iwaizumi until it’s dark enough that Shoyo can barely see his own feet in the sand. 

He thanks Tooru when they finally part, and from thousands of miles away, he curses Tobio’s name. 

***

He would swear to hell and back that it was a coincidence if anyone asked him.

To be fair, he really  _ didn’t  _ know that Hinata would be at this exact cafe two days before their reunion match. Hinata has been back in the country for a while, but he was never worried about running into him, as the Jackals were based in Osaka and his own home base is in Tokyo. Besides, with millions of people in Tokyo, the likelihood of them just, you know,  _ stumbling  _ into each other was almost at zero. 

_ Almost.  _

Of course, there was always that lovely, tiny chance that he and Hinata would end up at the same cafe that Yachi was always recommending because the pancakes are just  _ so good  _ and you should see the amount of whipped cream they put on their mochas! And the cappuccinos are simply to die for, Tobio, so you really must go. 

As he sits there, sipping cappuccino (which, honestly, was just okay), he thinks he should’ve just gone to the regular coffee shop he stops into. It would’ve been faster, and the girl who works the counter in the early afternoon, Shiho, always slips him a day old pastry for free because she hates letting them go to waste. Overall, he’d made a poor choice, and he should’ve just  _ ignored  _ Hitoka’s stupid recommendation, but now he’s here and it’s too late for him to change his mind. 

It’s only when he sees a nest of orange curls bounce into the cafe above the crowd does he realize that he, in fact, was a fucking  _ sucker.  _

He slumps down in his chair a little more, pulling the sports magazine he was reading up to cover his face, and looking away deliberately. If Hinata orders his drink and sits on the other side of the cafe, Kageyama should be able to finish his drink in peace and leave without getting some unwanted attention from an old ( _ definitely no longer present _ ) high school crush.

He tries not to pay attention to him, and is pretty successful. He reads over the Adlers interviews that were published in this magazine, and wrinkles his nose at the pictures they chose of him. They always seem to pick out the most “sexy” ones they can find. It’s just  _ volleyball,  _ seriously. 

His cappuccino is almost gone, so he pulls down his beanie and stands up, walking towards the door avoiding eye contact. 

He goes to toss the magazine and his coffee cup into the trash, but is rudely interrupted by someone grabbing his wrist. 

“Wait!” an all-too-familiar voice cries. If he was asked about how he cringed at hearing Hinata’s voice, he would deny it. “Is that the latest issue? With the Adlers special feature?”

God, he wishes that he didn’t have to reply to that.

_ Hold on, why would Hinata be interested in an Adlers special feature?  _ A hopeful part of his brain whispers at him.

_ Because he wants to know more about his opponents, dumbass,  _ the much more realistic and dominant side of his brain scoffs. 

“Hell if I know,” he responds, in what he hopes is a strained and deep voice that Hinata wouldn’t immediately recognize. 

He expects his wrist to be dropped, and for him to be able to toss his coffee cup without additional incident. 

His wrist isn’t dropped.

“K-Kageyama?” This question is much quieter than the initial call out to him. He lets this hang in the air for a while, and he can feel stares from other people in the cafe. Kageyama turns around and shoves the magazine at him.

“ _ Just take it _ . I receive two free copies for the feature, anyway,” Tobio hisses out through gritted teeth. This is so  _ not  _ how he wanted to spend his day off.

Hinata blinks up at him for a moment before a slow, smug grin spreads across his face. “Yamayama _ ,  _ are you  _ embarrassed _ ?”

Kageyama leaves the cafe. He’s not dealing with this shit right now. He’s not dealing with all these stupid feelings that slapped him in the face with no preamble. Fuck the magazine, fuck Yachi for setting him up, and  _ especially  _ fuck Hinata for doing that to him. 

He’s never trying out a new cafe again. He’ll stick with Shiho and the day old pastries and the acceptable coffee. 

Kageyama would love to say that he’s surprised by Hinata chasing after him as he stalks down the street towards the nearest train station. 

Except, it was actually the most predictable thing he’s done all day. It’s the only thing Hinata has  _ ever  _ done, and his heart can barely stand it any more. They’re on different teams, they’re different  _ people  _ now. They’ve had years to grow apart.

“Kageyama, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to surprise you like that! I didn’t even know you would be at the cafe! Yachi just told me about it and so--” he starts rambling,  _ of course,  _ trying to get Kageyama’s, what, sympathy? Attention? He’s not sure. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the reason we haven’t talked recently is because I don’t  _ want _ to talk to you, Hinata?” he snaps at him, finally making real, proper eye contact with him.

Oh. Fuck. 

He looks completely different. His hair is shorter, and he’s a little taller, a little stronger, a little more confident. He has this self-assuredness in his posture that Kageyama barely recognizes. He’s…

_ Beautiful.  _

He must be staring because he’s 100% sure that he did not hear what Hinata just said.

“What?” he balks.

Hinata groans in frustration. This, at least, is an expression on Hinata that he recognizes. 

“I  _ said,  _ that maybe it wasn’t just you! It’s not like I was texting and calling you all the time either! Maybe  _ I  _ didn’t want to talk to you,” he bites back, hands on his hips. He’s leaned up on his toes a bit, and Tobio can’t stand the thrill it gives him.

He, himself, leans down so their noses nearly touch. “Then I guess we’re done here.” He turns on his heel to head home.

He’s taken two more steps before there’s another shout behind him.

“I’ll win tomorrow! I will!”

He stops in his tracks, letting the words wash over him. Tobio couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on his face if he tried. 

Neither of them say anything else, but he goes home with a fiery determination he hasn’t felt in a long,  _ long  _ time. 

Two days later, it feels like his entire  _ world  _ has been pushing him towards this,  _ exact  _ moment.

“I’m here,” Hinata declares, with a pride that makes Kageyama’s insides turn to jelly.

“You’re here.”

***

Okay, so, here’s the thing. It’s not _ not  _ like he was deliberately avoiding Kageyama. He wouldn’t say that he was dodging him, and he also wouldn’t say that he  _ wasn’t  _ dodging him. It’s just that, you know, if someone tells you that they didn’t regret talking to you for several years even though you’d talked with them literally every day for the three years previous, you might be a little bit hurt.

Not that Hinata was hurt over that! He didn’t reach out either so he really couldn’t blame it all on Kageyama.

And, yes, sure, maybe he’d envisioned their reunion to be completely different from how it went down. He wasn’t expecting to be swept off his feet or to be showered in praise or anything like that! That would be  _ ridiculous.  _ Kageyama would never tell him that he was beautiful and amazing and that he could see how much stronger he’d gotten completely unprompted and then punctuate that with, I don’t know, a kiss? Or a proposal?

Honestly, it doesn’t even  _ matter  _ what Hinata had or had not fantasized about because reuniting at that (stupid, Hitoka-recommended) cafe was nothing like that. 

The thing is, though, that now they’re all crammed into this Izakaya, breathing in stale, cigarette smoky air and  _ everyone _ can tell that they’re avoiding each other. Even Sakusa had given Hinata a weird look, and there’s nothing quite as uncomfortable as  _ Sakusa Kiyoomi  _ of all people criticizing his social skills. What the fuck.

He hates that Kageyama has robbed him of the satisfaction of winning. He’s robbed him of enjoying a beer with his teammates because instead of showering him with praise and flowers and kisses, Kageyama is glowering at him from the opposite end of the corner while Hoshiumi tries to harass him into only god knows what. Probably a drinking competition or something equally stupid. 

_ It wouldn’t be stupid if he was talking to you.  _

Fuck you, conscience. 

He takes another drink of his beer and stares at Bokuto and Akaashi looking stupidly happy and the way Ushijima looks pleasantly content despite the fact that Hinata knows he hates izakayas. 

It’s sudden, and he catches it out of the corner of his eye: Kageyama stands, throwing some change on the corner as he stomps out of the establishment, somehow looking even more upset than he did at the cafe. 

No one says anything for a moment, conversations stilling. Normally this sort of pause would be nice, but Hinata feels  _ suffocated  _ beneath all the gazes that suddenly turn on him. 

“Hey! Don’t look at me!” he shouts, snapping at everyone. “He’s not my teammate, why don’t you guys go after him!” He gestures at the Adlers who all seem to collectively shrug and go back to minding their own business.

He could punch Atsumu for his next words. “Are  _ you _ going to go after him, Sho?”

Hinata huffs as he stands, collecting his things and slipping out of the Izakaya. “No,” he lies, heading out of the building barely two minutes after Kageyama left. 

The cool, evening air hits his face and it makes him nauseous. He literally cannot believe he’s in his  _ twenties  _ still chasing after his stupid, idiot, dumbass middle school rival. 

“Kageyama!” he damn-near screams, when he spots the setter a little further down the road. 

Unlike at the cafe, Kageyama actually turns around this time. He’s in a defensive position, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes averted. 

Oh, wait. He has  _ no idea  _ what he’s going to say here. He probably should’ve thought of something. 

“You can’t ignore me anymore, you know! I  _ won,  _ Kageyama. I followed you all the way to your stupid world stage!” he shouts. 

“I know,” is the hushed response that comes. 

“Then  _ why  _ are you  _ still  _ ignoring me! I did it! I spent these last three years becoming the best damn player I could so why can’t you just say  _ good game  _ at the very least!” 

“Hinata,” Kageyama says, a little louder, finally looking up at him.

“What! What are you waiting for?” He feels his whole body going hot with anger, fists balling up as he tries to find a way to justify this treatment. 

“Hinata, you’re an  _ amazing  _ player.”

All of his racing thoughts slow to a stop as he tries to process this new information.

No, no, no. No, that can’t be right. Kageyama-- _ real _ Kageyama Tobio--the one that exists outside of Hinata’s daydreams, would never say something like that. He would never just say that Hinata was an “amazing player” like some sort of shoujo love interest. 

“You’re lying.”

“What? Why the hell would I lie about something like that, dumbass?” 

Hinata steps closer, staring, evaluating. Kageyama looks, sounds, and almost seems  _ embarrassed?  _ What--

“You really think so?” Hinata asks, feeling a smile on his face. “Mm, after all these years, Yamayama  _ finally  _ thinks I’m a good player? With my amazing receives and spikes.” He nudges closer, stepping into Kageyama’s personal space now, trying to get him to make real eye contact.

Kageyama shoves his face away with his hand. “I’ve always thought you were a good player,” he confesses. 

“Oh.” 

There’s a brief moment where they both let that admission hang in the air for a moment. It feels shallow, like there was more to what he wanted to say.    
  


“Then why…” Hinata trails off, pondering for a bit. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“I couldn’t tell you back then. I was moving on, and you were going to Brazil, and neither of us were...were stable, I guess. But,” he swallows hard, “I love you.”

This is almost worse than the first compliment. 

Hinata tackles him to the ground. 

There’s some squawking and tangled limbs. Hinata gets an elbow in his ribs at one point, and he shoves his hands into Kageyama’s face. Kageyama tugs at his hair, and Hinata kicks at his stupidly long legs. 

“Don’t lie to me like that you bastard!” Hinata shouts, tugging at Kageyama’s hair.

“Why do you keep thinking I’m lying! I fucking love you!” he shouts, tugging at Hinata’s wrist to get his fingers out of his hair. 

“You better not be lying! I’ll beat you in our next game too if you are!” He shoves Kageyama’s shoulder into the cement, feeling a sudden moment of gratitude for the fact that no one has walked past. 

“Ow, hey! I’m not ly-”

Hinata kisses him.

It feels like he has some sort of magic power in that moment, because Kageyama’s entire body loses tension as he breathes into the kiss. 

It’s a special sort of sensation, this one. All of the joy and pride he feels from winning a game come back tenfold as Kageyama cups a hand on his jaw and presses in further.

He pulls back, and can feel bruises forming from their brief scuffle. 

“Not lying,” Kageyama says, jabbing him in the side as he moves to stand up again. He offers a hand to help Hinata stand up as well, but Hinata doesn’t let go when he’s standing again. 

The night has gotten cooler, and he’s sure the rest of their teams are probably gossiping about them back in the izakaya, but he can’t really bring himself to care too much. 

They walk back to Kageyama’s apartment together, finally,  _ finally  _ catching up. Hinata revels in Kageyama’s reaction to his stories about Oikawa, and Hinata almost chokes when Kageyama tells him about Yuki and how Tsukishima had been telling him to confess to Hinata for years. 

Hinata will be in Tokyo for a few more days, and if the soft smile on Tobio’s is anything to go by, he’s sure that three years will be easily made up for. 

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on twt @quietlx


End file.
